


Faith

by KibaSin



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: F/M, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Lemon, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-09
Updated: 2012-09-09
Packaged: 2017-11-13 22:15:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/508274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KibaSin/pseuds/KibaSin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A single moment of greed, a lust for power, and Amaterasu turns her back on her. Now, she is desperate to cling to anything divine, wishing only to serve, giving the bored Lord of Death a perfect opportunity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Faith

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything related to _Inuyasha_. It belongs to Takahashi Rumiko-sama. The work that this story is based off of,  _The Dark Disciples_ triology, belongs to Margaret Weis.  
  
 **Genre:** Drama/Romance  
  
 **Rating:** Explicit

* * *

Only the old, the brittle, and the dying worshipped him.

They prayed day and night that the Lord of Death would extend their pitiful life, if only by a little. They prayed to die with family and loved ones, so that the thought of passing on would be less hard. But, no matter how hard they prayed, often times the God that held the power to give them eternal life in his hand ignored them. He did not have time for such selfish desires of man, and though they knew it, they prayed and prayed to the God with the blackest heart stilled within his chest.  
  
Yet, though he found no time, nor had any want, to bestow upon man his power, they worshipped him. In secret, behind locked doors, they chanted spells and prayed to the Lord of Death to take their soul and grant them more time on the blasted piece of rock they called home. He took them underneath his black wing and gave them the ability to walk and serve him even after death, breathing a sickening life into their bones to make sure the next batch of fools came to his blackened call. But, no matter how hard he tried, even these were the old, the brittle, and the dying.  
  
He supposed that youth merely shook the words of his servants away, bounding around to worship Tsukiyomi or Amaterasu. The youth always felt a pull toward the night or day, and followed whichever God brought them more delight. Yet they always came to him once death began to sink into their bones, the realization that they would die beginning to set in. Their youthful hope that Tsukiyomi or Amaterasu would love them enough to keep them forever was dashed, and they always ran to him.  
  
Always.  
  
They hid in secret, trying to keep their new hope locked away from the eyes of those who were watching from above. The other Gods and Goddesses never questioned them, never faltered, because they knew it was within human nature to wish for more. More time. More money. More children. It was always something that they wanted, the selfish creatures, and they begged and pleaded, giving their loyalty and hope to a God that appealed to them, hoping to get what they wanted.  
  
He cast his eyes over the dark realm that made up his kingdom. Man always asked for something. They were always allowed to have what they wished for, if only they gave their complete loyalty to someone much higher than themselves. What about what he wanted, though? He had lived for centuries, catering to their whims, yet never once did he get what he wanted.  
  
What he needed.  
  
Even that blasted, temperamental fool Tatsuo managed to pull youth into his web. The God laughed and did as he wished, drowning men at sea and causing the water to rise at the coastline whenever he felt bored. He was a jealous and grudge holding God, yet still he managed to pull people in to worship him day and night. They prayed to Tatsuo for fair weather and calm seas out of fear, yet still they did not fear him enough to worship him openly until it was nearly too late.  
  
Only the old, the brittle, and the dying felt the need to fear him, to pray that he allow them a speck more of life. The youth did not care. But that was what he wanted, what he needed. He needed youth, because he knew that it was youthful followers that searched the world to convert others and give Gods and Goddesses more strength. And he knew that it would be the youth of man that would pave the path to him rising above the fools that thought to hold him down.  
  
He could rule them all, if only he could find youthful followers. Those who would follow him openly and without doubt of the love he held for them. Man might think that he cared nothing for them, but they were what gave him life. The words they whispered in the darkness strengthened him, and so he loved each and every follower that fell beneath his wing. He loved them more than anything, and he would love them even more if he could rise above the Gods and Goddesses that held him, keeping the balances of good and evil from tipping in favor of one or the other.  
  
Besides, the old, the brittle, and the dying bored him.

* * *

Tears washed over her cheeks, while she stared at the large, overly decorated building before her eyes. She would never be accepted there again, and it hurt to realize that the one person she had put all trust in had cast her aside. She had meant nothing by it; she would have proven herself otherwise if the Goddess so wished it, yet the one she thought would forever be there for her had shunned her.

Amaterasu. How she longed to once more be bathed in the Goddess's eternal light and glory. She longed to be beneath the Goddess's loving caress, knowing that if she only asked it, what she longed for would be given to her as long as her loyalty stayed true. She wished nothing more than for Amaterasu to forgive her, to see reason, but the Goddess ignored her very existence until she approached someone that the Goddess held dear—and because of that she never wished to see Amaterasu's anger again.  
  
Raising her hands, she pressed her face into them, trying to make the tear stains go away. However, despite the fact that she knew it was supposed to rain, she doubted that even the fresh wash of water could wash the tears away. She had been crying for so long, wishing that she could regain her image in Amaterasu's eyes, but the Goddess refused to listen to her prays, her hopes, or her wishes anymore.  
  
Now, she feared that she would never regain her position, because already Amaterasu had chosen another to stand as High Priestess. A woman named Kikyo. A woman that Amaterasu's followers obeyed without so much as a word, and she wept even more because of it. She knew the reason they followed this Kikyo, and it was only because people spoke of how much they looked similar. People said that Amaterasu had found a flaw in the original priestess and created a new one in her image, and thus they followed without a word.  
  
Already she wished that she had never agreed to Amaterasu's wish. The Goddess had wished for her to take on a fraction of the power she held and use it to spread her divine will to the rest of the mortal world. Yet with the power flowing through her veins she had felt something erupt inside of her. She had pressed it down almost the instant it appeared, fright filling her at the fact that she could feel such a thing, but that had not stopped Amaterasu from seeing. The Goddess had known and suspicion had rose in the Goddess's eyes about her High Priestess.  
  
Then, though everything had seemed as it always had, Amaterasu had began to grow distant. Her eyes filled with disappointment each time she spoke with the Goddess, and before long she began to make her prays far and in between. She had been so sure that that had been the Goddess's wish, but she had been wrong. Her moment of greed, her lack of faith, and Amaterasu's generosity and love withered. Before she knew what had happened, the Goddess had confronted her, telling her that she would not risk another human using her power for evil and thrust her aside to find a new, better High Priestess.  
  
She understood. She knew the reason that Amaterasu did not wish for another to abuse her power. Already she had had a High Priestess follow her without doubt, only to turn in an instant, using Amaterasu's awesome power to transform into a dragon and destroy much of the mortal world before she was defeated in the Great War. She understood that Amaterasu was afraid of disloyalty, but more than anything she loved the Goddess and her eternal light.  
  
More than anything she wished she could swim within the light that Amaterasu spun upon her hand without effort. She wished that for a single moment Amaterasu would allow her the privilege of being bathed within the power she cast. Even if the Goddess chose to strike her down the next moment, at least she would die with a smile. With a smile, because she knew that Amaterasu gave her a single chance to try and redeem her honor. She knew that she would fail to redeem her honor, her loyalty, while being within Amaterasu's light once more, but it would be worth more than any precious jewel in the world.  
  
But she had no smile. She knew that Amaterasu had long forgotten her. The Goddess was not coming back to reclaim the loyalty that she freely gave. Amaterasu would rather she rot than have another High Priestess with the potential to try and take over the world of man. Amaterasu would rather she be cast into the pits of Hell than obtain the chance to show her that though man was a fool—a greedy, nasty fool—not all would turn their back on the love the Goddess so freely gave.  
  
She had no smile, because Amaterasu was gone from her life.  
  
She had no smile, and the rain began to pour.

* * *

Her feet carried her further and further away, hoping to find a place far enough that Amaterasu would be forgotten from her mind. The terrain had long ago turned from the bustling streets of a brightened village to a dark, secret holding forest that she had never walked before. She almost felt fear without the Goddess's light to lead her path, because she had always had the knowledge that no matter where she walked, Amaterasu would guide her. She almost felt fear because she had always known that Amaterasu's divine will was the reason she walked forward, yet now there was nothing more than a deep emptiness.

There was no otherworldly power to protect her anymore. She knew that more than anything, because many times she had stepped into battle only because she knew that her love for the Goddess would lead her to victory. She would have prevailed, tearing down the walls of her enemy and spreading Amaterasu's will and wrath to those that had brought it upon themselves. But the knowledge that that power was gone had settled in, and she knew that should she find herself attacked, raped, or kidnapped in these dark trees, there would be no Goddess to help her escape, to survive, or to simply fight back.  
  
Again, though, she heard the annoying voice echo into her ear.  
  
“Kagome-sama, please…”  
  
She did not turn to acknowledge the boy that followed her, her feet continuing forward despite the weariness that was beginning to come over her. She would need to rest soon, but she needed to get as far away from Amaterasu's watchful eye as she could. If only to make her image leave her mind. If only to make the wish that Amaterasu would return her to her cozy position of High Priestess go away. These things were selfish of her, but she _needed_ to escape the knowledge that she could not function without the Goddess.  
  
“We should not be here in these woods,” the boy sighed. “I cannot protect you properly here, and I do not wish to see you hurt should the need to protect you arise.”  
  
Again, she did nothing to acknowledge his existence. She needed only to get away, to make sure that never again would she think of the Goddess that had turned from her. She needed that, and she could not understand why he could not see that. She needed to escape the pain that filled her body, the knowledge that filled her head, and hope that with time everything would just leave her alone.  
  
“Please, Kagome-sama,” the boy tried again. “If you need to worship someone so much, I'm sure that Ai-sama or Kaiya-sama would be willing to take in your tortured soul. Amaterasu-sama might be filled with light and happiness, but I'm sure that Ai-sama and Kaiya-sama are just as loving and kind.”  
  
She paused in step, and turned her eyes to look at the boy. She had saved him only because it had been Amaterasu's will to save him, yet he spoke of the other Goddesses as if he worshipped them, as well. Ai might be the Goddess of Love, but she did not tolerate those who had been scarred so well—she took on more children than anything. And Kaiya might be the most known to forgive, but she doubted that even she would wish to take on a High Priestess discarded by Amaterasu.  
  
“Please…”  
  
“Kohaku,” she whispered. “Go away. I only want to forget. So go away, you bring me bad memories.”  
  
She did not lie. She had saved Kohaku from the massacre of his village because Amaterasu had directed her to. The boy had instantly clung to the Goddess without question, and stated that no matter what he would always protect the woman that had spared him death. He had refused to leave her, even now, in hopes of one day being able to repay the life debt that he owed. Such a silly boy, since that life debt should be given to Amaterasu. The Goddess had been the one who spoke and told her to save him; she had merely followed Amaterasu's orders and done as she had asked.  
  
She had done nothing divine, despite what the boy thought.  
  
For a time she could perform divine feats, but even then it had been Amaterasu's power. The Goddess had yet to push the power into her veins, merely allowing her body to become the instrument for which it traveled into the human world through. She had been happy with that, performing the duties that Amaterasu asked of her, and allowing the Goddess to use her power as she saw fit. And if only it had stayed that way, because perhaps then Amaterasu would never have had to see the shudder of want that not even she had realized she often had.  
  
Her eyes turned upward, gazing through the trees to the moon—the symbol of Tsukiyomi. Her eyes grew sad once more, her heart weeping with the knowledge that she could never escape, because Tsukiyomi would always remind her of Amaterasu no matter how much she hid from the Goddess. After all, Tsukiyomi was the brother of the Goddess, and it was often times that she had referred to them together while underneath Amaterasu's watchful eye. They worked along side one another, though they were of opposite personalities and opinions, and she had yet to see them parted.  
  
“I'm sorry, Kagome-sama,” Kohaku sighed. He wished that he could make her better. Return the light to her eyes, and watch her smile as she often did not long ago. “I don't want to hurt you in any way, but this is madness. You'll never survive out here on your own. You'll die and be cast into the hands of death before that happens.”  
  
A bitter smile rose on her lips, as she stated, “Good. Perhaps Sesshoumaru-sama will treat me kindly once I am underneath his rule.”  
  
Kohaku flinched at the Lord of Death's name. As High Priestess, Lady Kagome had been afraid of nothing. She had believed that the Goddess would protect her from all wrongs in the world, from things that she did not require, and when she died, her soul would be gifted to the Goddess. Now, though, he knew that it was not right for her to speak so casually of a cold, distant God such as him. “Kagome-sama, I do not think it wise to think that way of him.”  
  
“And why not?” she asked. “Sesshoumaru-sama holds more power than you or me can ever hope of achieving. We can never hold a candle to the flame he has. If I am to die, I can only pray that Sesshoumaru-sama will be kind to this tortured soul and grant me peace for some time. Perhaps,” she paused, “perhaps even casting the memory of the Goddess's light from my mind.”  
  
He noticed the chill in the air, and shivered. Kohaku did not like where she was beginning to go with her short rant. “Kagome-sama,” he tried again, “one should not pray to the Lord of Death unless they know they are dying. You should live and be happy until then, and then ask for him to have mercy on your soul. Especially if your death should be a violent one.”  
  
“Perhaps I should pray to him now then,” she said softly. “I feel as if I am dying.”  
  
Kohaku took a single step backward, feeling the shadows of the forest begin to twist and turn deathly cold in the moon's light. He had felt this before, when the Lord of Death had come to take the souls of his kinsmen as his own, devouring them and turning those who had secretly worshipped him into his servants. Even now he shuddered at the memory of their shattered, beaten, and cursed bodies rising from the ground in black cloaks in order to praise the Lord of Death's name as Kagome took him from the battlefield. It was a memory he longed to forget, and he gave a silent pray to Amaterasu to banish the memories from his head.  
  
The Goddess heard his prayer, and cast him within her light to ease the pain. However, Kohaku could do nothing as the woman he cared so much for began to walk once more, retreating into the darkness of the forest. He knew she was stepping into the shadows the Lord of Death controlled, and he had no doubt that one such as him would wish to sink his fangs into a banished High Priestess. Kohaku tried to yell out to her, even as the shadows began to rise and chase her from his sight, but the peacefulness that Amaterasu had case over him caused him to choke on his pleasure swollen tongue.  
  
 _Kagome-sama!_  
  
A tear rolled down Kohaku's face, and he could only pray that the woman he cared so deeply for did not do as he feared she might. He did not wish to see another of his loved ones within the grasp of the Lord of Death. But, as tears washed down his face, he prayed to Amaterasu, hoping that Kagome's loss of faith did not cause her to fall willingly into the hands of the Lord of Death. He prayed, though he doubted that Amaterasu cared much for what he prayed for, because he _never_ wanted to see Kagome as a follower to _him_.

* * *

He leaned further into the chair he had created within the shadows of his home, his eyes closing as he heard the whispers of prayers echo in his ears. Already night had fallen in the mortal realm, and the old, the brittle, and the dying shrank away from their homes to hidden spaces—whether it was a building of worship created for him or not. He heard them all; each one sending out small prayers while they gave what they believed would please him, hoping that he would breath into their lungs the gift of life.

A long sigh left him, while he listened to the constant request to be gifted with a moment more in the world. However, his lip lifted in a smirk, as he heard another mortal that gifted him with their soul if only they could continue to walk upon the earth. He granted this silently, allowing his energy to flick outward and incase the foolish mortal that wished to serve him for all eternity. He stripped him of his soul, listening as the fool gasped and choked in agony, and then allowed his power to animate the body, creating another decaying servant that would seek only to find him more followers.  
  
And perhaps this one would succeed in bringing him youth. He had a strong doubt as the soul he had captured twisted within his grasp, the old thief knowing that his fate had been sealed the moment his wish had left his lips. The mind of his new, rotting servant above would think as it had in its final moments, and he knew almost instantly that this one would not be the one to bring him youthful followers. But, perhaps this old thief would prove him wrong, capturing a youthful soul and turning it toward him, allowing him to spread out a new message through the youthful appearance.  
  
A message that would no doubt attract many more youthful followers—the gift of life.  
  
He supposed that his constant battles with the other Gods and Goddesses had blinded him to what the youth of man wished for. Life. He had known for many centuries that the old, the brittle, and the dying prayed to have more life. He had known, yet he had never attached the concept with the youth of man. He wished to snarl at himself for having wasted centuries of time with his title of Lord of Death, when he should have cast out his first servant with the message that he could grant eternal life.  
  
Eternal life. That was the answer to his problem. He could rule over the other fools around him if only he could make others see that he could grant such a thing. To do that, though—to spread out the word that he could grant eternal life, beauty, and youth—he would need a youthful follower. A human that was not old, not brittle, and certainly not dying. One that could change the minds of others, whether it was because of the youth, beauty, or status they held.  
  
Yes, that was the type of follower he needed, not another old thief that wished only to find something else to steal. The thief's decaying body would send people away with its mere smell after so many days of searching for new followers, and no doubt he would babble on about things one could steal once they worshipped him. The old thief was of no use to him, except in the essence of bringing forth more humans, and perhaps one of them would have enough luck to bring him someone with youth. Yes, perhaps one of the followers the old thief managed to snag _might_ bring him youth, and he could only hope for such a thing.  
  
He leaned further back into the chair he had created, allowing himself the luxury of relaxing while the other Gods and Goddesses were off finding ways to expand their worship. They did not dare travel into the darkness of his domain, for they knew that only death resided there. Some might delight in the thought of another mortals life coming to an end and either journeying to the afterlife—or beginning cast into his clutches—but not even they were brave enough to step foot in the land he ruled. A few toyed with it, a couple others were known for their own darkness, but none of them were willing to seek him out when he drifted to this place.  
  
A smirk worked its way onto his face, while he tilted his head back far enough to gave into the haze that appeared to have settled along the ceiling. The absence of light gave him delight, because he knew that once he had youth within his hand, the other Gods and Goddesses would tremble in their immortal skin. The mortal realm would become his domain, as well, and be cast into a darkness that all humans would delight in while the Gods and Goddesses shrank away in the background. He would be free to walk the land in whatever skin he chose, ruling over the land of the mortal and the immortal, and there would be nothing the other immortals would be able to say or do.  
  
Voices penetrated his mind, despite the fact he blocked many of them out until he caught faint words whispered on the wind. Another dying soul wishing for more life. He almost sighed, even as his power flickered outward and grasped a hold of the frail soul that writhed upon contact. There was nothing the mortal could do, already having granted him their soul, and they only screamed in agony and despair for a moment before he silenced them. The body was almost immediately underneath his control, and he knew that the fragile body would also not be the one to bring him youth. It was almost disappointing, but that one was so weak that most would merely cast them off with pity, thinking that their days were numbered and that was the reason they continued to spout such insane ideals.  
  
However, as he twisted the soul within his grasp, his nose twitched a bit as another voice echoed into his ear for a single moment. He heard most that spoke his name, or his title, but this one was so distant that he knew the soul was retreating, drifting further and further away from the land that humans colonnaded and called their home. Into the shadows that he controlled with a mere flick of his fingers, and with the direct contact, he could easily feel the remorse, the wish to forget, and the hope to serve.  
  
His golden eyes flashed in the darkness, turning to gaze beyond his domain and into the mortal realm. His nose twitched again, the scent of the mortal filling his nose as he rose from his seat, and cast the soul within his hand aside for the moment. The scent filled his senses, even as his eyes searched, and he knew almost instantly that it was not the soul of the old, the brittle, or the dying. The scent carried with it a distinct whiff of something he had only smelled while traveling in the mortal realm so many centuries ago. It was so different from the smells that normally filled his nose that he took delight in it for a moment, filling his immortal lungs, and flaring his nostrils in order to receive more.  
  
“ _Perhaps I should pray to him now then. I feel as if I am dying._ ”  
  
The voice was so different from what he normally heard whisper across his ears, yet that was not what he was paying attention to. Yes, it sounded young and beautiful, but he had been hopeful far too many times before by such a thing. A voice was not something that would tell him what type of soul was calling out to him, but he knew that his nose and his eyes had never been one to lie to him. So, he ignored the voice, so different from the breathless voices that pounded against his ears, and focused on sight and smell.  
  
His eyes pierced through the layers of darkness, easily obtaining sight into the mortal realm, and he almost felt his immortal breath catch in his throat. He had known the moment the smell had entered his nose that the mortal was not apart of the old, the brittle, or the dying. Yet now he saw it with his eyes. Now he saw the one that the voice belonged to, and he knew that his ears had not lied when it came to the soft, wistful, and feminine sound that had obviously come from the mortal's throat.  
  
A young woman was walking through his shadows, her beauty clearly written into her deep blue eyes and soft features. Yet there was a clear hint of darkness in her features, a clear sign that at some point she had been hurt. Her mind, he could feel, as nearly as youthful as her body. Yet there were hints that she was intelligent and knew more than most mortals in the age, her experience pushing her mind through the levels of intelligence mortals showed. Her soul, though, was old, and had traveled across the mortal plane time and again in order to spread light through many generations. It was one of the great lights that he had sought to capture long ago, but had given up when none of them showed even the smallest hint of allowing the darkness within them to grow.  
  
Most importantly, though, she was the epitome of youth. She had prayed to him in a way that he had heard her, and he knew from her words alone that there would be no other God or Goddess to fend off his hand. He could easily manipulate this woman under his wing, thus gaining his most valuable servant of all. But she would not be a decaying, rotting corpse like so many of his followers before her. No, because his goal was to bring youth to him, and the only way for that to happen was for him to leave the woman as she was. Whole, beautiful, and with her soul completely underneath his spell inside her body—it would be truly beautiful, a work of art, and he had only to snatch her up to make his plan to begin.  
  
Power rolled from his shoulders, and a deep, menacing laugh escaped his immortal lips. This was his day. This would be his age, the time in which Sesshoumaru, Lord of Death, ruled the mortal realm. And with this woman, for he had no doubts that he would be able to catch her, he would rule the world of men for centuries to come. She would be the key to his entire plan, the key that unlocked the path to supreme conquest over the mortal realm, and he would make sure that she was never from his sight.  
  
With a feral, lustful grin, the God disappeared from his domain. A dark mist trailed in his wake, giving only the smallest hint of where the powerful being had gone. Power rolled along the substance, though, and gave hint to any that the Lord of Death would soon arrive elsewhere in another body.

* * *

She tensed a bit, her skin prickling when she detected the faint, rippling caress of the divine. She had felt it many times with the Goddess, and she knew without a doubt that she was going to be paid a visit from a higher being. And she shivered when the feeling began to rise in the air, drowning her in the power that surrounded her. Hope did not blossom in her chest, though, because she knew that this immortal would not be Amaterasu. There was no light, no warmth, and the feeling of those attributes had been so imprinted in her mind that she knew this was not the Goddess she longed for. Nor was it Tsukiyomi, her brother, for not even he could manage to be so cold.

The shadows rippled and parted, as she took a step forward to greet them. She was no longer High Priestess, but she would not bring more shame to Amaterasu. She would greet this God or Goddess as if they were her own, and then perhaps she would be left in peace when they were finished with her. After all, she saw no reason that any other God or Goddess would wish to waste their time with a banished High Priestess that had the potential of using divine power for evil. No, she was positive this God or Goddess would see that, and once they did, they would go out and search for another like Kikyo.  
  
Black mist rose from the ground, rising upward, and began to shift and form the God in mortal flesh. Long before the process was over, though, a thin tendril of the divine's power reached out to her. A voice spoke the next instant, the chilling power brushing against her skin and causing it to heat slightly. “You prayed to me,” the voice said, emotionless, but she could hear the underlying adoration that seemed well hidden. Gods and Goddesses were not known to prefer one human servant over another, but she knew the signs and heard them clearly in that moment.  
  
She inclined her head, not wishing to offend the cold being by looking upon them in a fashion they did not wish. She had a feeling she knew who this God was, but she dared not anger him in hopes of showing the other Gods and Goddesses that Amaterasu had taught her well. She would not bring shame to her any longer, nor would she fail her again. She was determined, so she brought forth the feelings she had often experienced while underneath Amaterasu's watchful eye, and she found nothing wrong with praying at least once to the one that could easily cleanse her soul and send it along its journey.  
  
The tendril of his power forced her face upward, as he stated, again, “You prayed to _me_.” She was not surprised with his beauty, but she had never seen a God's mortal appearance oppose their very nature. She knew that this God was cold, the one who controlled death itself, yet he appeared as if he had gathered his power from the stars. His hair looked like moon spun silk that cascaded down his back in straight paths, while his eyes were a deep, cold golden that only compared with the richest of precious metals. His face was sharp, aristocratic, with his pale flesh, and he had the most interesting symbol on his forehead—a blue crescent moon. She had never had the need to notice the handsome features of men, but he was by far the most beautiful that she had ever laid eyes on.  
  
“Yes,” she said in agreement. She would not deny what she had done. “I did pray to you, Sesshoumaru-sama.”  
  
His lip tilted upward, giving her the faintest view of the fangs she had often heard he preferred to have even while taking on a mortal's flesh. She was surprised that he did not have the slashes of magenta that she had heard of on his cheeks, but she supposed that there could be cases in which he went without them. “Tell me,” he asked of her, “what would you pray for now that I am here?”  
  
“I can only pray that you will have mercy on my mortal soul,” she replied. “I pray that when you obtain it, you treat it fairly, and allow me to forget the pains and regrets that have managed to start breaking it. I pray that you allow me the chance to redeem myself, for I know only death can cleanse my tainted soul now.”  
  
His eyes captured hers, and she felt herself become cornered within his heated gaze. Often times men had gazed at her in such a way, but Amaterasu had turned her from those things, allowing her the freedom to roam without the need of a man. Amaterasu had made it so she did not need the warmth of another mortal in the cold of night, she had had the Goddess's light instead, but now the world had changed. Amaterasu had banished her, and this was no moral man. If he wanted it, he would have it, but she wondered at the strange heat that flushed over her skin at his gaze alone.  
  
“ _But_ , my dearest Kagome, I seek only your acceptance of myself,” he stated. “I seek to have you see me in your heart as the one God that you know and love. I seek to have you underneath my rule, without chains or shackles tying you to pitiful laws, and merely follow the orders I give you. That is all I seek, so why is it you seek death from my hand?”  
  
“I have been banished from Amat—”  
  
He had moved forward, the shadows appearing to cling to his clothing as he came closer, and placed his hand across her mouth. Heat coursed through her body through her lips, tingling down until it had reached her toes. Her eyes darted to his, and felt herself begin to fall into the molten gaze that captured her once more. “Sh,” he said, his dark and rich voice surprisingly soft. “Do not speak that wretched woman's name. She is not deserving of you, my dearest Kagome. She could have never given you anything more than a life filled with a bleak hope that one day she would be the light that sent you on your journey beyond life, but only I could have done that. And I can do so much more for you, Kagome. I can give you so much more than that wretched woman.”  
  
Her cheeks flushed a brilliant red, and she watched as a smirk pulled itself onto his handsome features. His golden eyes were blazing with power, his strength locked away behind the chilling iris. They were focused completely onto her, staring at her and trying to tell her silently how much he could give her. A part of her felt empowered to have such a high being gazing at her in such a way, wishing only to see what he could give, but another part of her shrank away in fear. Amaterasu would never wish for her to give herself over to one so cold, so hidden beneath death—and then she reminded herself once more, Amaterasu was no longer with her.  
  
A tear streaked down her face.  
  
His fingers trailed upward, catching the small droplet of salt filled fluid on the tips. He continued his touch, moving his fingers up the path the tear had taken, before gently smoothing out the skin next to her eye. “There is no reason to cry over one that is lost, Kagome. I am here for you, and I will _never_ let you go, if only you praise my name to the heavens,” he stated. “If you will only walk the world with my voice as your guide, I will give you everything that I can. Riches, whether it is of coin, treasure, or some clothe that you have fallen in love with. And _life_ , my dearest Kagome, along with a purpose for which to continue living the life that I can breathe into your lungs.”  
  
He tilted her head back, and she realized that she could not speak within his display of power. She could feel it caressing her flesh, washing across her skin and causing the muscles to quiver in delight. She had lived her entire life with the knowledge that the divine would always be near, that Amaterasu would always protect her, yet it had been so long since she had felt it. Her breathing quickened with the feel of it, knowing that what he promised, he could give. It could have been because Amaterasu had cast her aside, or perhaps because she wanted to feel her light so much, but she leaned into his touch, so warm that it almost felt mortal.  
  
She felt her mind shutting down, pleased to know that something divine had not left her. She wanted to cling to him, cry into the cloth that clung desperately to the darkness around him, and pray that he would never leave her. Yet her tongue felt swollen from the amount of energy he was sending out to rush through her veins, and she could not speak the way she wanted. The only thing that escaped her was a soft moan, which was followed by a second when she felt his hand softly moving down her side.  
  
“That's all I want from you,” he said. “Only to worship my name here in the land of mortals, show them that I can give them what I am offering, and I will give you everything your mortal mind can think of.”  
  
“I—” she tried to speak, but the words caught in her throat the moment his smothering gaze refocused onto her face. She had seen where he glanced, and her body warmed a bit more underneath his wandering hands. She had never felt this hot, not even during the times that the Goddess wrapped her within her light, but her body wanted it more than anything else. It wanted to feel it, to receive more, and it knew instinctively that the being before her could give her everything her mortal body wished for.  
  
“Do not answer yet,” he quickly told her. He leaned closer, until he was nearly brushing his mouth against hers, and she found that she craved the contact. She wanted him to do such a thing, to please her as no man had ever done, and then wrap her within his power once more. Yes, she craved that more than anything else in the world at the moment, and from the glow in his eyes, she knew he knew that. “Let me show you what I can give you, my dearest Kagome. Let me show you something that that blasted wretch has kept secret from you, despite the fact that your body is screaming for it.”  
  
Her greedy mind grasped a hold of his words, and she surprised herself by leaning closer to him. He smirked, as if he knew that she would want nothing more than to hope he kept his word, though she knew that every God and Goddess were bound to the words that left their lips. They could lie, but when they gave their word, they kept it, and she was not disappointed when he slanted his rough mouth across hers. A gasp opened her mouth to his immortal tongue, and he darted it in to tangle around her own wet appendage. His mouth was so hot against her flesh, and she would have lost her balance if his arm had not wrapped around her waist.  
  
Heat coursed into her flesh from where he touched her, the gentle waves of pleasure cascading into her body and centering themselves in her stomach. She had never felt this way, never tried to, but she reached up her hands to touch his mortal face. When her hands touched him, she felt her center of balance change, and opened her eyes, though she was not sure when she had closed them anymore. A wash of cold went through her skin, causing her to shiver, when he lowered her to the ground, his shadows rising and wrapping them in the darkness they possessed.  
  
He settled over her, the warmth of his body chasing away the cold that had penetrated her mind. His mouth left hers, allowing her the chance to groan when his hands began to roam. Everywhere he touched felt like it was on fire, his power leaking into her skin, and she twisted a bit with the feel of it. It felt so much better than she had first thought, and it was so much different than the Goddess's power. She yearned for him to fill her flesh completely with it, but her mind refocused on her neck as his lips touched her there. Another sound left her mouth, one that she was not sure if she had made, when she realized that he had scrapped the faint fangs he possessed across her collarbone.  
  
His hand went over her covered breast, and she arched into the feel of him. Her body wanted it, wanted him to touch her there, and she found herself uncaring of whether she was shy or not. She demanded he touch her through her movements, while her pelvis rose to bump against him, and she moaned when his fingers finally remained where she wanted them. Through the thick layer of clothing she possessed he touched her, twisting at the nipple, and she felt it harden beneath his hand. However, the feel of him touching her in such a way only increased the moment she realized he had caused her shirt to vanish, leaving his fingers to touch her naked, burning skin.  
  
His other hand trailed down her thigh, and she barely realized that he had left her completely naked. Her eyes were watching his silver head as he skimmed down her chest, his tongue wrapping around one of her nipples for a single second, before he went back to tasting every piece of skin he could get a hold of. But, though she could not see his hand, she felt it move down to her knee, and then travel back up the inside of her thigh. She stiffened a little, but his power entered her skin and she twisted again at the feel, her mind uncaring of how he touched her, as long as his energy swirled inside her body.  
  
Her breathing became heavy, her body wriggling beneath him, and she grabbed onto his shoulders. She had never felt this type of pleasure, but as his hand neared the place the pleasure continued to settle, she wanted to. She wanted to so badly, because it had been far too long since she had felt the power of the divine, and it was that which was giving her such pleasure. However, as she panted, she did not expect the rush of pleasure that shot up her spine when his fingers graved the mound that made her a woman. His fingers slipped into the wet slit, moved downward and she felt the pleasure settled within her explode.  
  
She screamed, arching upward into his body while he chuckled. His fingers had not moved from the place he had found, but played with the wetness that seeped from her body. She felt herself falling from the extreme pleasure he had given her, but moaned with the feel of him continuing to touch her. Her body pressed against him, even when his warm appendages slipped down to the entrance of her body. Two of his fingers pressed into the tiny opening, moving into her body, and she stiffened only a little with the odd sensation.  
  
His golden eyes focused onto her face, his body settling over her as his fingers began to move. She moaned softly, gazing into the molten gaze that held her. She felt his other hand slip beneath her bottom, lifting her a bit for deeper penetration. She could only moan, bite her lip, and stare into his eyes as he watched her. Kagome could not look away, because as she rose higher and higher, she felt like her entire world narrowed down to those piercing eyes. She could still feel his power entering her skin, but she felt that his eyes were the only thing she could see, and his touch the only thing she could feel.  
  
He leaned down, breaking her gaze, and allowing her to shut her eyes against the pleasure rushing through her. His lips graved her ear, and she shivered at the feel of his hot breath moving across her sensitive flesh. His tongue traced the shell for only a moment, heightening her pleasure just a bit more, and then his deep, rich voice washed over her senses. “Think of what I could give you, Kagome,” he growled. “I could give you the world, and all you need to do is bring to me what I want. More like you. Young, strong followers that will praise my name and seek to find more young, strong followers. That is all I ask of you, and in return I will give you whatever you wish. I will treat you as my queen, my sweet, beautiful, and mortal queen.”  
  
The cord she recognized as her pleasure snapped with his voice, and she screamed once more. Her nails dug into his shoulder, causing him to hiss at the feel, and she arched into his body. Her breasts pushed against his chest, her hips raised to press his fingers deeper into her body, but as she began to fall, his fingers slipping from her body, she realized there was an ache within her. She groaned at the feel of it, and Kagome was not sure what to think when the God in mortal flesh sucked the fingers covered in her fluids into his hot mouth. She only groaned again.  
  
“So beautiful you are, Kagome,” he whispered, placing his hand onto the ground. She panted at the sound of his voice once more, and realized that her nails were biting into flesh instead of cloth. His burning skin settled against her, and she spread her legs when he pressed her completely into the ground. “I could keep you this way forever. I could give you the power to live as long as I, but still breathe into your lungs the breath of a mortal. I could do that, and you would only have to agree to be mine forever.”  
  
He covered her mouth with his own before she could reply, his tongue entering her lips and tangling with hers once more. She moaned against him, until to think about anything but the pleasure he had brought her so far. She wanted to tell him that she would praise his name, but she needed only this. She did not need him to make her live forever, as long as she had this, but she supposed that if her God wished it so, she would be willing to let him breathe such air into her body.  
  
He shifted, and she raised her leg to drape over his as he spread her wider. She had never been touched by a man, mortal or otherwise, but she knew what came next. She had been High Priestess, and listened daily to the background conversation of men and women that sought pleasure with one another. She had had no need of such, because the Goddess had no need of such, but now she only wanted to feel him in such a way. So she gasped when she felt his hot flesh press against her opening, and she tried to prepare herself for the pain.  
  
“I will give you the world, and as much power as you want,” Sesshoumaru continued, pulling his mouth from hers. “I will give you _everything_ and all I want in return is for you to pray to me. Praise my name and find others to do so as well. That is all I want. That is all I need.”  
  
He pressed into her, and she was surprised with the amount of pleasure that shot through her. She had expected pain, from what she had often heard from other women, but his power swarmed beneath her skin and she only felt pleasure. Kagome raised her leg with his command, his hand pulling it so that it wrapped around his waist, and soon allowed the other to do so. He slipped easily into her body, and she felt only the slightly twinge of discomfort, before even that was swept away beneath his power.  
  
Relaxing her grip on his shoulders, she allowed one of her hands to travel up his neck until she was holding his jaw. He began to move, drawing away and filling her once more, but she focused her sight on his face, watching him and feeling the slight movement of his jaw beneath her hand. A new emotion filled her, satisfaction, when she realized that her mortal body was bringing someone so much more than her his immortal turned mortal flesh desired. The feel of him was exquisite, while he created friction between their bodies, but she was interested in the way he shivered, the way his jaw clenched, and the lust that clouded his golden eyes.  
  
He continued to thrust, forcing her body to respond once more, as she slipped her fingers up the side of his face. His aristocratic features were soft to the touch, but her goal was that stunning blue moon sitting high on his brow. She touched the outer rim the moment he pressed deeper into her, making her squeak at the feel, but she was not deterred from what she sought. His eyes slipped closed the moment she pressed her fingers to it, allowing them to caress the flesh that felt surprisingly softer than the rest of him. The marking fascinated her, even when she realized that two magenta slashes were appearing on his cheeks, and she managed to move enough to kiss it.  
  
Her hips lifted to meet his and that was her downfall. His powerful movements had turned rough and long, quick and agile long before she had made her movement, but she felt him press against something that sent her spiraling over the edge. Her hand grabbed onto the back of his neck, pulling him closer, while the other dug her nails into his lower back. He only grunted at the feel, but she could feel the way his mortal flesh was beginning to tense. She rose higher and higher, his power nearly suffocating her with its hold, but she was extremely aware of him at that moment.  
  
His voice had deepened, and it came out as a growling rumble that vibrated through her chest. He hissed, his chest rising heavily away from his body to bump hers, but somehow he managed to speak through it. His mouth was next to her ear, again, and he said, “Praise my name, Kagome. Be mine. Stand at my side as my High Priestess and I shall give you the world.” He growled again, the markings on his face flickering until they look jagged, and continued, “Tell me. Tell me you'll stay at my side. _Tell me_!”  
  
His hand pressed against her stomach, his energy entering her skin with ease, before it slid downward. She felt his fingers slip through the hair that marked her womanhood, before dipping into the fluids that continued to leak from her body. He sought out the piece of flesh that had sent her over the edge before and rubbed it. Kagome felt herself falling again almost the moment she felt she had returned to the ground.  
  
His energy spiked within her skin, and she screamed her answer, “Yes! _Yes_! O… oh, Sesshoumaru!”  
  
“ _Good_.” He snarled much like an animal, his thrusts becoming erratic, and he leaned over her like a beast that had caught its prey. He was smiling, though the amount of cold pleasure was lost to her as she came, and then he pressed his lips to her shoulder. They were so warm, so very gentle, but as his immortal seed began to fill her womb, she felt a jolt of pain rush through her. She stiffened, her pleasure suddenly draining away, even as he thrust his hips, continuing to pump his seed deep into her body.  
  
The pain became unbearable, and for a moment she could not breathe. She felt as if her heart had suddenly been pierced and a thousand tiny needles were rushing inside to stab her. Tears leaked down her face, and it was the only sign that she was within extreme pain, because she found she could not cry out. Even when he pulled away, smiling cruelly at whatever mark he had left upon her skin, she could not cry out. Then, when she thought that the pain was just too much for her to handle, and she was surely to die, she felt it recede.  
  
Tears continued to make their way down her face, and he only lightly kissed them away. His voice was soft once more, while he said, “It will be alright, my dearest Kagome. You shall never feel that type of pain again, I promise you, for you are mine.”  
  
She could only groan lightly, while she felt her heart pick up speed once more. He was touching her again, softly, and she could only hold onto his word as his power made the pleasure come back. The feeling of his power striking her heart was not forgotten, but he was her God now and she forgave him almost the moment he touched her again, seeking to gain more pleasure for his mortal flesh.

* * *

A cruel smirk crossed his features, as he pulled aside the mass of black hair that hid his new High Priestess from his view. She moved lightly in her sleep, pressing back against him, but his mind was only on the mark that he had placed onto her skin. The mark that clearly stated which God she belonged to, and which God she would find new followers for. The mark that silently drew out her life, allowing her heart to beat, but stretching out the threads that made her mortal.

He knew it was a brilliant plan. The mark allowed her to walk the mortal plane, bringing to him more followers that would one day bare the same mark from her lips, and without the fuss of the other Gods and Goddesses. He almost chuckled, because before those fools realized what hit them, he would be in control. His wish for supreme conquest would be met, and it would be man that gave him the ability to push through the filth that stood in his way.  
  
He leaned over to trace the mark with his tongue, though he knew that his little High Priestess was not ready to deal with him yet again. He caressed it, delighted to know that finally he had captured what he needed. The scent of her youth filled his nose, and he allowed his hands to roam a little when it nearly made him drunk with lust. It had been far too long that he had been surrounded by nothing but the old, the brittle, and the dying that became nothing more than rotting corpses. Her fresh, youthful scent was a delight to his nose, and he almost felt the need to harness it for only himself. However, he knew that he could not do such a thing, for those that would become his followers might shun for the difference.  
  
He could not have that. He needed her to do his bidding in the mortal world, to spread his cold will to the hearts of every man and woman that walked there. That was the exact reason he gave her the mark he still touched, for he needed her as long as he could keep her. He had given her his word, he would give her the world if she asked for it, and he would give her life.  
  
And he had. He had breathed new life into her lungs for her faith, and the mark clearly stated that. Yes, and he did believe that the black, nearly burned imprint of his lips was the perfect way to show it. That little kiss would be his key, and he was going to use it to open every door he possibly could.  
  
Yes, and Sesshoumaru knew that it would not be much longer until he ruled over the land of man. With that thought, he pulled the mortal woman within his grasp closer to him, pressing his lips to the black imprint of his lips upon her skin. He knew, he did, and he could smell it within her flesh.

_—Fin_


End file.
